


Mages of Winterhold

by Pumpkin_Queen



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: College of Winterhold - Freeform, Entire College of Winterhold Basically, F/M, Gen, OC is not the Dragonborn, Questline Divergence, bosmer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 13:14:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pumpkin_Queen/pseuds/Pumpkin_Queen
Summary: Cassandra is a student at the College of Winterhold. She is far away from Valenwood, far away from the Summerset Isles. Far away from the Aldmeri Dominion. Just how she prefers it.So it comes as a shock to her when, after returning from one of her many trips away from the College, she discovers a member of the Thalmor has been posted at the College.And he's a Jerk.





	

It was a cold, clear night. A high wind had blown away the thick clouds, leaving a bright, starry sky over Winterhold - a rare sight for the constantly snowy hold. It would not last, of course; by morning, the clouds would be back, just as thick, and dumping enough snow over the town and the College to make up for what it had missed overnight. 

 

Cassandra stared up at the sky, pulling her robes tighter around herself to block out the bite of ice of the gentle wind that was blowing over the bridge between Winterhold and the College. While a clear sky in other parts of Skyrim boded well for farmers and townsfolk alike, it rarely meant the same for chilly Winterhold. 

 

Narrowing her eyes, Cassandra turned her attention back to the bridge to the College. It was never a wise idea to not pay attention while crossing the bridge; many a hapless hopeful apprentice had plunged to their deaths already because they'd allowed their excitement to get the better of them, and many others over the years had narrowly avoided the same fate. There were none in the College who could claim that they had never almost fallen off the bridge at least once in their time as a student or a scholar, whether by their own fault or that of the weather. Cassandra had lost count of the number of times she'd found herself clinging to crumbling stone, on her knees on the bridge after a near-fall caused by a stumble, or firmly attached to the railing after the wind had tried to blow her off.

 

Fortunately, though the sky had been cleared because of it, there was very little wind around the bridge - and what was there was hardly noticeable - and though it was late at night, there was plenty of light, cast by the fonts at intervals on the bridge. Though she knew the bridge well, she had no desire to try and travel it in darkness - she’d waste the last of her Magicka on casting Candlelight before she tried to make it to the College in total darkness. 

 

She slowed her steady pace as she reached the last slope to the College, eyeing the sheen of ice warily as she carefully stepped over it. No matter how many times it had been broken off, it always came back. It was one of the things that got most of the overzealous new apprentices; in their haste to reach the College and see it for themselves, they stepped on the ice, and many a time, the Scholar accompanying them hadn’t been able to reach them in time to keep them from slipping.

 

Some of them had been lucky; they’d managed to land on the bridge, or had grabbed onto the nearest thing and through the grace of the Divines, had managed to hold on long enough for their guide to rescue them from certain death. Others had not been so lucky. 

 

As she reached the top of the slope, the College gates - closed and sealed with magic to prevent the braver of the locals from crossing the bridge and entering the College simply to cause trouble - swung open with a soft creak. Though she could see no one standing between the light of the font in front of her, and the one in the centre of the courtyard, she could feel eyes watching her. 

 

Rolling her eyes, she slipped around the font, and hurried through the gates, which closed behind her just as she cleared it, narrowly missing the hem of her robes. Someone snickered as she let out a grumble, but she ignored it in favour of ensuring that no new damage had occurred to her robes.

 

“These robes are damaged enough as it is, Enthir.” She growled when she had confirmed that there were no new tears. “Don’t endanger them any more than they already are.” 

 

“Perhaps you should get rid of them, then.” Her fellow Bosmer slid out of the shadows, as easily as many Bosmer in Valenwood did from the trees. Cassandra was unconvinced that he had never been to Valenwood, despite his claims. 

 

“And what? Buy a new set from you?” She snorted as she straightened, dropping the hem of her robes so she could reach up and pull her hood down instead. “At the price you charge? You must be joking.” She shook her head, pulling the thick, tangled mess of black that was her hair free of where it was still trapped by the hood. 

 

“Do you not have a spare set?” Enthir fell into step with her as she started walking, heading towards the Hall of Attainment. “I could have sworn you bought a set off me because I gave you a discount.” 

 

“I did,” she responded, shooting a dark look at him, “but I gave them to Brelyna before I left because _someone_ sold her an unstable potion that exploded and set half her room on fire.” She frowned as she recalled the rude wake-up call that had been half the residents of the Hall of Attainment yelling and swearing, and smoke filling the air. It had not been a pleasant day.

 

“I am a merchant, Cass, not an alchemist,” Enthir answered, also frowning. There was no doubt in Cassandra’s mind that he’d faced repercussions because of that incident, and his reputation had probably suffered a serious blow. As had his coin purse, most likely. 

 

“Then leave the alchemy to me, the _alchemist_ , unless you want to lose all your customers due to poorly crafted potions.” 

 

“Yes, _ma’am_.” Enthir’s tone was sarcastic, and Cassandra grinned at him as she pushed the door to the Hall of Attainment open. 

 

The Hall was quiet and dim, the muted blue glow of the font in the centre of the room a contrast to the bright orange of the fires in the taverns she’d stayed in while she’d been away. The air was pleasantly warm despite the difference, not stifling from an overstocked hearth. It radiated with the comforting hum of magic, and smelled of potions, dust, and old paper, with the lingering smell of smoke underneath. 

 

Cassandra took a moment to let the warmth and familiarity of it wash over her, before Enthir pushed passed her, obviously unwilling to wait out in the cold until she was done basking in the much-missed comforts.

 

She glared at his back as she stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her, quietly to prevent waking any sleeping scholars or apprentices. It would have served him right to be stuck outside; his unstable potion had been the reason she’d left in the first place, and he knew it. 

 

He grinned back at her, and then started towards the stairs. “I’m off to bed. Goodnight, Cass.” His voice was quiet - thankfully; she had no desire to argue with half-asleep apprentices who likely had a class early in the morning.

 

She nodded at him, mouthing, “Goodnight,” back, as she stepped into her room - the one right next to the front door. 

 

It was almost as messy as she’d left it - almost. Books were piled haphazardly on her desk and bedside table, alchemy ingredients were piled on the tables on either side of her door, and there were some shoes and boots sticking out from underneath her bed. A few things had changed; a pile of dirty clothes had vanished, no doubt washed and put away in her absence, her bed had been made, and there was a noticeable lack of dust on the furniture. Fresh candles had replaced the used ones on her other bedside table - the one not loaded with books. 

 

She frowned slightly but shrugged her shoulders as she pulled her bag over her head and dumped it on the bed beside her as she dropped down on the overstuffed mattress. It was not unusual for her to return from a wander to find that someone had taken it upon themselves to clean her room up somewhat while she’d been gone. She was never sure who it was; no one ever admitted to it. 

 

She didn’t mind; so long as nothing was missing - save for the occasional book she’d borrowed from the Arcanaeum and forgotten to return before she disappeared - and no one attempted to do it while she was around - though no one ever had. It saved her from having to do it herself.

 

“Cass?” Enthir’s voice from behind her made her jump, but she managed to swallow the shriek of surprise as she twisted on her bed to face the Bosmer nonchalantly standing beside her desk. 

 

“Don’t _do_ that!” Her voice was a little shrill as she glared at him, and she didn’t miss the grin that spread across his face at knowing he’d managed to scare her. “What do you want now?”

 

“I just thought I should give you fair warning - try not to upset the Thalmor in the end room,” he waved vaguely in the direction of the wall behind him, “he’s not exactly the world’s friendliest mer.” Enthir’s expression displayed nothing of his thoughts about the matter.

 

Cassandra felt her blood run cold.

 

“The _what_?!”

  
  



End file.
